A Romantic Night with Austria
by CosmicKitten89
Summary: A fluffy yet richly detailed AusHun fic about how Austria won Hungary's heart on that perfect first date.  Hungary's POV.  Rated T to be safe.


It is the eve of 1867. I am exhausted from struggling against the Austrian forces. Exhausted as I may be, I still must fight, for it is my independence that is at stake.

And yet, because I am so exhausted, I must pick my battles with care, so as to not waste my much-needed energy.

Which is why I come quietly to the Kaiserball at Austria's capital.

I feel strange entering the Hofburg palace in a fancy dress. I come without a partner, not being much of a dancer anyway.

My eyes boggle at the décor – chandeliers by the dozen, balconies, roses, hanging plants, palms, silky drapes, Renaissance paintings, statues carved into the walls, and classical musicians in nearly every corner of the crowded and winding ballroom.

Nearly every country in Europe that is either on good terms with the Austrian Empire or under its control is present. And then some…

"Hey, Liz. How would you like a waltz with the awesome me?"

My skin crawls at that query. Prussia. Having recently whipped Austria's rear in battle, he was certainly not invited here.

"I, uh, have to use the bathroom," I lie. I shove my way past a few dining aristocrats to the nearest hallway, hoping to actually find a bathroom that I can hide in for the remainder of the event.

This palace is HUGE. It had better have multiple restrooms, for trying to find a single one would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Perhaps I should just hide behind the nearest stage, the one with the giant countdown to the New Year clock on it. The guards might scold me for trying to leave the ballroom, after all.

The song from the musicians on this stage is very loud from behind the bushes where the clock ticks. I do not recognize it, being as uncultured as I am, but I am nevertheless soothed by it. The song is, for lack of a better word to describe it, _romantic. _A feeling that I am utterly unable to relate to, but the song is so moving that I begin to almost wish that I did have something worthwhile to have romantic feelings about.

I peek through the foliage and find myself face-to-face with the coattails of the blue-clad lead violinist. I suddenly feel very unladylike, and for some reason it bothers me right now.

Seeing that Prussia is out of sight, I decide to take my chances and step out from my hiding place. I stand close to the stage to watch the performers. I am fascinated by their fine clothing, the finesse with which they strike the strings with their bows, the passion evident in their faces as they strain themselves, shaking, to get the notes to sound just right, I suppose. I blush when the lead violinist opens his eyes as he wakes from his state of impassioned concentration, seeing that they are staring in my direction. I step back from the stage, staring down at my feet until I am at a less conspicuous distance. Finding that I am close to a potted palm tree, I (feebly) attempt to hide myself behind it.

The violinist and his orchestra play another, more festive song, during which I keep my eyes fixated on the lead violinist. I flush from staring at him, and my eyes dart in other directions to admire the palace scenery, but then they shyly, as though they had been scolded, flicker back to the elegant man on the stage.

The man bows after the performance and then, rather than perform again, steps down from the stage – and in _my direction._

I gulp. Had I done something wrong? I stare at the painting of some Austrian Archduchess on the far wall to pretend as though I had not noticed him at all.

"Good evening. Would you, by any chance, happen to be Hungary?"

I jump and freeze at the sound of his fluid, melodic, gentlemanly voice. I turn around and force myself to make eye contact.

"Y-yes, I am huh – Hungary, and I-I am very p-pleased to meet you".

Up close, I can see the detail of his face. His eyes, peering from behind a pair of spectacles that only accented his lovely face, are deep and soulful – am I imagining, or are they purple? His otherwise fair and flawless skin is marked by a mole on the left side of his chin. His hair, in contrast with his complexion, is a deep coffee brown, styled somewhat messily but in a refined way, with a long kink standing up on his right side.

I blink fiercely and rapidly. _He_ is overwhelming. I feel as though my body is tingling from an unseen force emanating from his presence. I have never felt so soft, so submissive, so _ladylike…_

"I am very pleased to meet you as well. My name is Roderich Edelstein. I am also known as Austria."

He kneels and takes my hand in his own, which is soft and delicate, and unflinching at the calloused, work-worn texture of mine, and he kisses it with shy and tender lips.

I am speechless. Simply speechless. My heart is pumping at a hundred kilometers a second, but all I can do is gape and stare.

He meets my stare, and something about his wise and intelligent gaze tells me that he has read my mind.

"I apologize for what my Emperor has done to you and your people. I understand that you want to reestablish your own sovereignty, am I correct?"

I nod with a repressed sigh.

"Perhaps we can work something out. In the meantime, I have noticed that you are without accompaniment at this fine ball. So… may I have this dance?"

I nod, though I imagine it looks more like shaking, for that's what I am doing at the moment. Shivers of heat course through my body as though I have a fever, but I can tell that it's a completely different ailment. I allow his hand to gently take mine and lead me around the ballroom, and my spine shivers as his other hand takes me by the back.

It felt strange, being taken charge of instead of taking charge for myself for once. Not wishing for my own rough and clumsy footsteps to halt the graceful flight that is his dancing, I allow my feet to drag, nearly falling into him, while he practically carries me around, always gently, for he is not strong at all.

"So… if you don't mind me asking… how would you like to leave this stuffy palace and go out this evening?"

I process this request for a few seconds, and then I release hold of my balance and fall. Austria swiftly catches me in midflight, his fingers soft as feathers on my back.

"Yes," I whisper. Although it wants to come out a scream.

There is no point in denying it... I have it BAD for him.


End file.
